The Rain King
by MademoiselleSpooky
Summary: What really happened after the cow came through the roof.
1. Chapter 1

The Rain King

What really happened once the cow came through the roof!

Rated

Agent Dana Scully sighed and threw her book aside. She was so annoyed, having to be out here in Hicksville with this crazy case that Mulder insisted upon investigating. It increased her annoyance that all of these people with their small lives actually found this to be highly important. She had so much more to concern herself with-and yet they were primarily concerned about the weather, and whether or not this insane cowboy with his ridiculous boots and his artificial leg was actually...sigh...controlling the weather.

She rolled over on her side and gazed out the window. Boy, it looked like one hell of a storm was working its way up. Good. The townsfolk would be happy and she and Mulder could go home and work on something actually deserving of their attention.

And what of that, really? It had been four years now since she had been descending into that creepy basement office. Four years of trying to simultaneously push aside her scientific logic to try to see Mulder's side of things, and also encourage that scientific logic in order to fulfill her assignment to the Bureau. She was a woman pulled in multiple directions.

Always the overachiever, her FBI assignment was always something she wanted to excel at. The fact that her father disapproved made that desire to achieve even stronger. When the Bureau had assigned her to be Fox Mulder's partner, she suddenly found herself at odds with that goal. For the first time in her life, she worried that the Powers That Be were not actually working as they should. What if all those conspiracy theories he harbored were true? And even if they weren't, her immense respect for him and his work meant she had to always entertain the possibility. Which in turn endangered her goal for her own achievement.

As if that was not enough, she had another problem. Agent Fox Mulder made her weak in the knees in the most acute way. She was subject to physical distraction as much as any reproduction-driven human being, but she had always prized the fact that her mind was always in charge. And one geeky, bespectacled, paranoiac special agent had blown that all completely out of the water. From the moment he asked her "So how's your chemistry?" to this red hot second, he was able to liquefy her insides like no one and nothing else.

It constantly bothered her that he was able to keep her off balance like that. That sarcastic smirk, those luminous eyes, those perfectly-placed double entendres...he could immediately disarm her and that made her incredibly nervous. In the early days, she reasoned that this was only a little crush, some vestigial biologic functions, that would soon clear up as soon as the novelty wore off. Four years and a number of vibrators later, it had not.

There were days she got lightheaded when he placed his big, strong hand on the small of her back. There were days she pretended to work as she surreptitiously studied him over the tops of her reading glasses. There were days she squirmed in her chair before inventing a need for a cup of coffee or a doughnut or a bathroom break. Or, she thought with a saucy smile, a "bathroom break". Indeed.

But that wasn't even the worst of it. Agent Dana Scully did not like being out of control, in any sense. Her world was a logical, organized, predictable world of cause and effect, reason, and practicality. Except it was not any longer. Against good sense, she would jeopardize her job, her career, her life, to follow this geeky paranoiac across the globe, into strange cults and up against angered spirits. She would be shot at, she would make enemies, she would expose herself to psychotic criminals...and she would always be ready for the next round. This was NOT logical or sensical. And yet, the thought of letting him go alone, or worse, missing out, was too much to bear even under her intense scientific scrutiny.

What attracted her to Mulder? So many, many things. The usual things, for sure. He was definitely attractive. Yet she was quite certain he did not realize it, which gave him the most adorable innocence. He had enchanting eyes. He had an unaffected sense of himself. He was absolutely super-smart, funny, and clever. But the thing that drew her the most was the vast vulnerability that he hid beneath those surface attributes. Fox Mulder was a man with deep, painful demons that haunted him every single day. And as much as he enchanted her, it was that dark tenderness that truly touched her. She saw so much in him that was admirable, she wanted him to know it. She wanted to ease his pain, make him feel like he was as wonderful as she knew him to be. She wanted to soothe that ache, chase those demons, warm his soul the way he had warmed hers. She desperately wished he would let her.

She got up and stretched, peeking at the clock. It was 2 a.m. She wasn't the least bit tired. The wind wailed outside, tossing the trees more viciously now. Wondering when the rain would begin, and hoping the roof didn't leak, she went to the bathroom and lingered by the window for a second on the way back.

The entire hotel suddenly shook with a force that Scully believed must be an earthquake, although she had never felt one before. She gasped and grabbed instinctively for the table in the room, and listened to the horrifying cracks and crashes emanating from the room next door. Mulder's room. "Mulder!" she cried, her knuckles white from clutching the table as she tried to figure out how to get to his room without falling.

As quickly as it had occurred, the shaking and banging stopped. Eyes wide, heart pounding, Scully called out for Mulder again as she wrenched open her door and banged on his. "Mulder?" she yelled.

"I'm all right Scully..." he said, though he clearly sounded shaken. After a few crashes the door opened, and Mulder, clad in boxers and an undershirt, stood in front of her, covered in dust. Behind him the room was in an utter shambles, and...was that a COW lying there?

"Ohmygod Mulder!" She threw her arms around him, so glad he was all right. He put his arms around her also, but slowly, as though he were still in shock. She could feel his heart pounding through his chest into her own. "What in the hell happened here?" Without letting go of him, she peered around his shoulder at the violently rent cow and the shattered remains of the hotel roof.

"Well Scully" Mulder said, voice shaking. "It appears a cow fell through my roof."

A crowd was gathering behind them, including the town police and fire department, and the proprietress of the place, looking hilarious in her rollers and her pink bathrobe. Scully was still holding Mulder, and her hand absently began to rub circles in his back, instinctively trying to calm him.

"Excuse me folks." the police chief and fire fighters pushed into the room. Just outside the door, Mulder leaned against the wall, holding Scully to him. She laid her head on his chest and listened to his slowing heartbeat. He was going to be okay. She reached up and picked a few pieces of plaster out of his hair, and ran her fingers through it gently.

"I am SO sorry about this!" The hotel's proprietress shuffled up in her slippers, her hands worrying at her bathrobe belt, tightening and loosening it compulsively. "This is...this is NOT the way we treat guests." Scully had to hold in a laugh at the bizareness of that statement. If cows did routinely blast through the hotel's roof, she figured Mulder would have dragged her out here years ago.

"It's okay ma'am...but..."

"Oh Ms. Scully, don't worry. I'll have the guys move all of your boyfriend's belongings into your room for you. Your room isn't damaged at all!"

"Excuse me, he isn't my boyfriend...we prefer separate rooms." Next to her she felt Mulder stiffen a little.

"Oh ma'am the hotel is all full up though with the reunion. You're lucky to have a room at all." The woman had abandoned the bathrobe belt in favor of fiddling with the pins in her curlers.

Scully took a deep breath and prayed Mulder did not notice her discomfort. How in the world was this going to work? She couldn't look him in the eye.

"I'll sleep on the floor, Scully. Or in the car." As if reading her thoughts, he whispered to her reassuringly.

Now she looked up at him. "Don't be ridiculous, that would be murder on your back. We're best friends, we should be able to share a bed for one night." Her calm exterior belied the storm that was brewing inside of her. Mulder in her bed? Yes please. She felt a little squirmy just thinking about it. Oh goodness. Perfect timing-right after a long discussion with herself about all the things she loved about him!

Back in the room, they eyed the double bed a bit apprehensively, each hoping the other would make the first move, she figured. He still looked a little shaken as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

Awash in warm, unfamiliar feelings, Scully knelt down on the bed behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders, slowly beginning to massage the knots out of the tightened muscles there. A college elective course in massage therapy had taught her a few things—and she wanted to touch him, to comfort him. "Just relax." she whispered. She could feel him do that as her fingers worked into his broad, beautiful shoulders.

As she operated, she took the time to admire his strong neck, his long, strong back, the way the undershirt hugged his body in an unassuming, yet undeniably sexy manner. Her hands slid up under the lower hem to begin on his lower back, and he moaned again. Her hands gently worked up on either side of his spine, pulling the fabric of the shirt up with them. "Why don't you lie down?" she asked him. He complied, wordlessly.

While she kneaded, she pondered. It was almost like a sign—just as she was thinking about him, suddenly a COW of all things crashed through the roof of his room, rendering it uninhabitable. And now, here he was...in her bed...and she was aching for him. She kept rubbing his back because she needed SOMETHING to do with her hands, because otherwise she was going to go insane with the fidgets.

How much of a relief would it be to have her feelings out in the open? To not have to struggle to hide what she felt; to not have to wonder what he was thinking? To have an answer, either way, would be immensely calming. Dana Scully liked known quantities, not mysteries. But the risk of knowing that was...everything. Friendship. Career. Dignity. It was ironically the largest gamble of her entire life.

If she had believed in kismet, she would have looked at the cow as an unmistakeable sign. How often did cows come crashing through people's roofs? What were the chances of a flying cow falling through that EXACT roof, leaving hers unscathed? And further, that it would happen at night—placing her incredibly attractive and nearly naked partner in her bed?

But Dana Scully did not deal in kismet, chance, or miracles. She needed solid, proveable facts. She wondered if perhaps this was why her social life had always been a bit lacking. People were just too unpredictable. Especially in relationships. Family was different—she could usually count on her father to be gruff, her mother to be apologetic, Melissa to be...well...Melissa wasn't really predictable, but she was always Melissa.

Though she knew Mulder better than anyone else, he was so guarded, so mysterious that she could never quite get a handle on his true feelings in her direction. There had been gazes that lasted longer than she'd expected, a hand on her lower back, a comforting hug, even a tiny forehead kiss. Coming from a family where such types of contact were common between relatives and friends, she automatically classified those things as acts of friendship.

Of course, from an intensely private person like Mulder, who kept a fortress around his emotions, could she assume that those actions meant more? No. Dana Scully did not assume. She realized that many of her past relationships had fizzled because she had been waiting for the other person to tip their hand before she gave away her own feelings.

The clock changed to 4:00 a.m. and the blink caught her eye, shaking her from her reverie. She looked down at Mulder, whose breathing was even and measured, and whose eyes were firmly closed. He was sound asleep. Hit by a rush of tender emotion, she placed a kiss on his back right between his shoulder blades, before she snuggled down next to him and fell asleep herself.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The next morning

Far too early, the rising sun streamed in the window and into Scully's eyes. Blinking and trying to bury her face in the covers against the harsh light, she noticed with a start that Mulder was in her bed. Slowly she recalled the events of last night; the storm, the cow, and Mulder spending the night with her. A cow. She was still having difficulty with that. She also really had to pee.

She got up carefully to avoid waking Mulder, but she didn't really worry that he would awaken anytime soon. He was obviously stressed out and alarmed by last night's events, and was sleeping off the emotional turmoil. As she brushed her teeth and pulled on a pair of sweatpants, she figured she could slip into the office and see if there were any more details about the cow.

She opened the door just enough to sneak out and pulled it shut behind her. The pavement was bone dry. Apparently no rain had come with the wind and storm last night. So, cow notwithstanding, they were stuck here for at least a couple more days.

The proprietress of the hotel was sitting at her desk with a cigarette and a cup of coffee. She looked up when she saw Scully and waved her in. "Good mornin' darlin'." she drawled. "Rough night last night eh?"

Scully nodded. "Yes ma'am. I was wondering if there was any further investigation done into the cow um...issue."

"Well, they've figured out whose cow it was. He's pissed by the way. His crops are dyin' in the field and now he's down a milk cow. We're luckier—our insurance will cover the hole in the roof." She took a drink of her coffee and set down her cigarette. "Tell me honey, you said that isn't your boyfriend?"

Already blushing, Scully shook her head. "No ma'am. Just my partner."

"Sweetie, I'm an old lady so don't pay me any mind. But I would have sworn on a stack of Bibles that was your boyfrien'. The way you just...LOOK at each other, like you can read each others' minds."

Scully realized the only way she was going to derail this conversation was a more interesting topic. "Ma'am do you think that the reunion may have brought a vandal into town? After all, several people remember a number of odd weather circumstances over the year."

"Sure, sure, but it ain't a vandal. I tell you what it is." Scully smiled inwardly and waited for what promised to be a fascinating theory. "It's that Shelia Fontaine." The woman lit another cigarette and sat back in her chair. "I tell you."

"Shelia Fontaine." Scully repeated. "Daryl Mootz's ex girlfriend."

"Yep." The proprietress nodded as though she expected Scully to head right out and make an arrest based on this.

"And what evidence do you have that this is Ms. Fontaine's doing?" Scully asked, bewildered.

"A number of years ago, on her weddin' day? Middle of the summer and it SNOWED." She ashed her cigarette and brought it back up to her mouth. "Then on the night of the big dance at the school? A hurricane. Ms. Scully we are in Kansas we don't GET hurricanes here."

Scully took a deep breath. Was everyone in this town crazy? "Thank you for your help ma'am. I think I best be going."

"Oh honey?" the woman called after her. "You and your boyfr...I mean...PARTNER gonna stay for the reunion dance? We'd love to have you."

"I'll have to see what...my...PARTNER says." Scully replied with a smirk.

Back in the motel room, Mulder was just beginning to stir. He opened his eyes and fought that early morning confusion...where was he? There was a purse on his dresser next to the TV. And there were two service weapons on the nightstand. Was he in Scully's room? And how did he get here?

Memories filtered through the haze in chunks—a cow. An amazing backrub. The hotel proprietress with rollers in her hair. A storm. Scully telling someone that he was not her boyfriend. And then tenderly lulling him to sleep with her magic little hands. He grinned as he remembered that. Whatever got him here, he was glad he was here. A night in Scully's arms was one of his favorite dreams.

There were so many times he felt the words "I love you" on his tongue, but he always swallowed them back just in time. It wasn't that the words were untruthful—he loved Scully more fiercely than anyone he had ever loved, with the possible exception of Samantha. But after Phoebe and Diana, he swore that he would never say those words again. It only opened him up to be manipulated. And it ended up with him being alone, with a battered heart. He was terrified of something even worse though. What if she did not feel the same, and pulled away from him in embarrassment? No, it was better to have Scully in his life as a friend and wish there were more, than to chase her off and lose her all together.

The door opened and he jumped a little, instinctively reaching for his weapon on the nightstand. Before he did, he realized it was Scully coming in. He felt a momentary panic of awkwardness—he was in her bed, after all-and quickly covered it up with a joke. "Scully! Didn't anyone ever teach you to knock?"

Scully regarded him with a raised eybrow (maddeningly cute, that was). "I figured you were still asleep."

"Where were you?" he asked.

"I went up to the office to speak with the hotel manager, and ask her if any further information had been found on last night's...incident. Apparently, the owner of the cow is pretty peeved."

"So it wasn't the owner of the cow that put it through my roof, I'm guessing."

"No." Scully paused. "And the proprietress has an...interesting theory as to the responsible party."

"Daryl Mootz?" he guessed.

"No. Apparently Mr. Mootz controls rain, but not cows. Which is probably a good thing. Supposing, that is, that he controls anything at all but his little dog and pony show." She sat down in the chair next to the bed. "She believes that it's Sheila Fontaine that's behind this."

"Shelia? Mootz's ex girlfriend?" Mulder asked, incredulously.

"My reaction exactly. Apparently the old-timers in the town recall some of the strange weather events in the past, and at least one person believes that it centers around Shelia. She was married in the middle of the summer, but apparently there was a freak snowstorm on that day. And the hurricane that occurred during the end-of-year dance was Shelia's graduating year."

"How does that make her responsible? Sounds like she's a victim more than a perp. Who would want snow during a summer wedding? Or a hurricane, for that matter?"

"This trivial information was not shared." Scully smiled at him, letting him know exactly what she thought of this 'testimony'. "But I do feel that we should at least talk to Shelia and decide for ourselves."

"We can do that this morning as soon as I get dressed." He suggested.

"And then, there is the small matter of the reunion this evening." She said with a smile. "We've been invited."

"Aw Scully, are you asking me to go to the dance with you?" Mulder made her blush, yet again. "Of course I will." He got up out of the bed and gave her a hug and a kiss on the top of her head. "Can we go parking afterward?"

The question was barely out of his mouth before a resounding slap hit him in the arm. "SHUT UP." She glared daggers at him. He knew she wasn't really mad, but it seemed somehow he had touched a nerve.

"Okay, okay. I'll have you home by 10 okay?" He turned to go take a shower. "I'll be ready in about half an hour, and we can go talk to Shelia Fontaine."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

That evening

Scully didn't know if she more irritated at Mulder, Shelia Fontaine, or herself. She decided it must be herself. She was an FBI agent. A doctor. A professional woman who had a professional relationship with her partner. And she had had to physically restrain herself from bitch slapping Shelia Fontaine when she saw the hussy kissing Mulder. She very nearly cried.

Even now, as she sat in the bathroom of her motel room, she was fighting a combination of tears and irrational rage. These stupid hayseed jackasses and their insipid small lives and their horrifying bleached blonde hairdos. Nothing else to concern themselves with but cows and grass and stupid irregular weather phenomena….she angrily wiped at a hot tear, coming away with a streak of mascara on her hand.

And what had they found out anyway? Did Mulder actually believe that Holman was controlling the weather through his unrequited emotions? That was even more bizarre than the idea that Shelia was somehow controlling the weather herself. And then she moved on to trying to control Agent Mulder. Scully growled to herself. The worst of it was, she was touched by Holman's undying devotion to Shelia. How would it be to love someone so much, that your unchecked emotions could actually create weather events?

"Scully?" she heard a knock on the door. Of course it was Mulder. She didn't want him to come in. But she couldn't kick him out. And she sure as hell couldn't go to the door with mascara running down her cheeks over him kissing Shelia Fontaine.

Quickly she wiped off her face. "One second!" she called out. "I'm in the bathroom!" that would buy her a minute or two. She faced herself in the mirror and took deep, cleansing breaths. "Maybe he wasn't even enjoying it." She told herself sternly. "And it's not like you've exactly laid your claim on him."

She opened the door but could not look him in the eye. He saw the hurt in her eyes, and saw the anger that she had at herself for feeling hurt. He placed his hand gently under her chin and tilted up her face to look in his eyes. "Scully." He said. "I was trying desperately to get away from her. I hope you realize that."

Before she could come up with words her eyes overflowed with hot tears. He could not believe he was seeing Scully, his Iron Scully, breaking down in front of him. And because she had seen him being kissed by another woman. Nonconsensually. But he was deeply touched. Was this the sign he was looking for? Did it take Shelia Fontaine's cigarette-flavored kiss to touch off a reaction in Dana Scully that she couldn't help but show him?

"Scully." He said softly. "I'm so sorry." He wrapped his arms around her and put her head on his chest. He just held her. And she let him. Panic surged within him however. Was he taking this too far? Too fast? Was this where she backed off and told him this was too close for friends? Where she said she wasn't at all hurt or jealous that he was kissing that blonde hussy? Where she said she that he should sleep on the floor after all?

But he didn't move, he just held her, and soon he felt her tears soak through his shirt. He gently led her to the bed and coaxed her into sitting down. "I'm going to just get you some tissues." He said softly. When he returned, she was lying face down on the bed, hiding her tearstained face in the pillow. "Scully?" he asked, putting a hand on her back, risking that rise of panic again.

"Mulder, I'm really mad at myself." She croaked out, muffled by the pillow.

"Why?" he asked, incredulous. "What do you have to be mad at yourself for?"

"Mulder, who you kiss is up to you, I don't have some claim on you or anything." She paused to take a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm mad at myself for being upset that you kissed Shelia."

His hand had been moving in slow, stroking circles on her back, but he stopped. No claim on him? Did she really not have any idea? And did she really think that he was willingly kissing Shelia Fontaine? "Scully, you have had a claim on me since you walked into my office." He said, bracing himself for the wave of panic. This was the end right here. But if it made her feel better, made her stop crying, made her stop being mad at herself….then it was worth it.

She rolled over and looked at him. "You didn't want to kiss her?"

He snorted. "No. Not even slightly. Scully she pushed me up against the wall, she like attacked me!" Outside, his mood was light and joking. Inside, he was falling apart. She had pretended not to hear his confession. He was going to be waiting for a gentle letdown all evening, maybe for longer.

"Mulder?" she started, and then her attention was caught by something outside. "Holy shit Mulder look at that RAIN."

He joined her at the window and saw literal buckets of rain sluicing down the roof of the hotel and puddling in the parking lot. "Wow. It's Holman. I bet everyone in town is watching this."

"I wonder if they'll call off the reunion." Scully wondered.

"Are you kidding Scully? They've been waiting for that for decades. They won't be calling off the reunion. Not even if a cow comes crashing through the roof of the high school."

"Mulder, I think we should go. We need to make sure Holman actually follows through on his promise. Too much rain at this rate and there will be flash floods in a parched area like this." Scully was more than happy to abandon the previous topic, and felt a secret satisfaction that Shelia had forced him to kiss her. She felt awfully sheepish though. She had told him far too much.

But then, so had he. She hadn't known how to reply to his saying she had a claim on him. She suspected that meant something more than friendship, especially coming from Mulder. But how to respond to that? She felt thoroughly uncomfortable. She had no idea what ground she was standing on. It was probably best to see to the conclusion of this case at the dance, and be back home on the next available flight.

Once the hurricane let up.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

the reunion

Scully stifled a laugh as she walked into the high school gym and saw all of the balloons and crepe paper decorations. It was as though she had suddenly travelled back to junior high, where boys stood on one side of the gym and girls on the other. Were all reunions decorated in this way? Or was it a hick thing? She had not attended any of her high school reunion parties. Her family had moved around so much, deep friendships were tough to maintain, and she didn't care to be the one at the reunion no one knew.

Of course, the residents of the town were not lined up on opposite sides of the gym, they were out dancing and groping each other just like teenagers at the prom. Over to the side she noticed a buffet table with a massive punch bowl. She wondered what was in that punch.

Even more awkward, everyone here was dressed to the nines, and she was stuck in her plain black suit, the one she had worn on the plane down here. In D.C. she felt sharp, purposeful, and stylish in suits. Here she felt utterly out of place amidst sequins and ruffles and bows.

To top it all off, she was soaked to the skin, her makeup was likely running rivers down her face and her hair was moments away from uncontrollable frizz. She felt like a wet dog. Not that it mattered. Her "date" was obligated to take her home tonight, as she had driven. But it wasn't like she could expect much romance anyway.

She felt a hand on her elbow and heard Mulder's voice in her ear. Her stomach flipped, even though she didn't hear what he said. "What?" she asked over the din of the reunioners, the music, and the pounding rain.

"I said we need to find Holman quickly. The storm sewers are going to fill and this place is going to flood if it keeps raining like this." He said, putting his mouth close enough to her ear that she could feel his breath.

"I bet if we find Shelia, we'll find Holman" Scully suggested. "I'll go look for her." Besides, she needed to stop in the ladies room. She needed to fix herself up at least a little so she didn't look entirely like a drowned rat.

Obviously, even if Shelia was in the ladies' room, Holman would not be, but Scully made that her first stop, and lucked out in finding Shelia by the sink, crying.

"Ms. Fontaine?" She asked gently.

"Oh Ms. Scully." Shelia sighed and began crying anew. "You must think I'm a complete idiot."

"No." Scully said, trying to decide what to say. "I don't think you're that."

"I just never seem to be able to luck out in love like so many people." Shelia sobbed. "You know I been married twice and divorced twice, and I don't know if the third time will be the charm." She sighed and wiped mascara off her cheeks. "Agent Scully?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"How is it that you spend so much time with Agent Mulder, so close, you can read each other's minds...but you don't tell people you're in a relationship?"

Flustered, Scully didn't know how to answer. "Well, we're not in a relationship. That's why we don't tell people. Agent Mulder and I are just...friends. That's all." Did that sound believeable? She wasn't sure.

"Agent Scully do you mean you've never even kissed? Or nothin'?" Shelia looked stunned.

"No. We're just very good friends." Scully was no longer sure if she was trying to convince Shelia or herself. "Shelia, have you ever thought of...Holman?"

"Thought of him how?" she was clearly confused.

"As a relationship." Scully wondered if, with Shelia at a weak moment, if she could get her to consider something she had never considered before. Worth a shot. She heard a gurgle in the pipes and feared that Mulder's prediction about the storm sewers filling was going to come true. She took a deep breath. "You know all those strange weather phenomena that happen...and mostly around you?" she asked.

"You mean they ain't my fault?" Shelia asked.

"No. They're not your fault. I'm not sure how to explain this, but Shelia, Holman is very much in love with you."

"Holman?" she asked, incredulously. "Why, we're just friends! I've known him for years!"

"No it's true, he loves you." Scully said, and then had to move to the really strange part. "Agent Mulder believes that Holman's feelings for you manifest in bizarre weather phenomena." She didn't know how she was going to convince Shelia of that one. But Shelia's eyes opened wide as if in revelation.

"The snow? On my weddin' day?" she asked.

"Yes."

"The heart shaped hail? On Valentine's Day?"

"Yes".

"What about...tonight? This storm?" Shelia also glanced down at the sink, which had issued another ominous gurgle.

Scully nodded. "That too. And you see, Shelia, if this rain continues like this, this entire town is going to flood."

As if she had invoked it, dark, murky water began to fill the sink from the drain. "Oh my God." Scully gasped, grabbing at Shelia's arm. "We have to find Holman."

The two women ran out of the bathroom to see a number of roof leaks had sprung in the hallway. Weaving their way back to the gym, Scully wondered how they were going to find Holman in this sea of dark suits.

It seemed luck was with them, however, as the first person she saw was Mulder, who was dragging Holman by the arm. Shelia's face lit up and she put her hands on Holman's face. "Holman, are you doing this? This rain? Because of me?" she asked in her cutesy little drawl.

He nodded helplessly. "I guess so."

"Well Holman, why didn't you ever say nothin'?" she asked, and leaned over and kissed him. As suddenly as it had started, the rain abruptly ceased and the noise level suddenly dropped.

Mulder did not know where to turn his eyes. He didn't want to stare at Holman and Shelia, who were noisily kissing and nuzzling off to his right. But he didn't want to stare at Scully either. Awkwardness swelled up in him. Scully was mad at him for kissing Shelia. He had told her it wasn't consensual, but he wasn't sure she believed him. Furthermore, in order for her to be so upset, she had to have some feelings for him that she wasn't sharing. Yet his previous confession of her claim over him had been ignored. He didn't know what to say.

Scully didn't know what to say either, nor did she know where to look. Her words to Shelia were echoing in her ears-plaintive assurances that what she and Mulder had was merely friendship and nothing more. But back in the room, before they came here, he had said something about having a claim over him. Did he mean that? Or had he simply been trying to comfort her? She knew such a statement was something extremely important coming from Mulder; he would never say such a thing lightly.

"Mulder, I need some air." she said, motioning to the big double doors at the end of the gym. He nodded and followed her out the door into heavy, humid air. Puddles littered the sidewalk and part of the parking lot appeared to be a pond. Cicaidas had begun to sing in the heat.

"Pretty gross air out here." he commented with a smile. "Almost better inside."

She took a deep breath. "Mulder." She turned to face him. His eyes looked gently on her and a small smile played on his lips. A twinge of fear seemed to spark behind his eyes, however. He was scared of what she was going to say. Touched by this, she reached up and stroked his cheek. "Mulder, I'm really sorry about this afternoon." She swallowed hard. "I guess I was kind of...jealous." she looked down, not able to look him in the eye.

She felt, rather than saw, his expression relax. "Scully." he said softly, putting his arms around her.

She looked up at him again. "Mulder, do I really have...a claim on you?" she asked, a small smile twisting her lips at the funny expression. "For real?"

"Scully, I can't believe you never knew." She saw tears sparkle in his eyes. "Since the first day you walked into my office. Up until right now."

Emotion washed over her and she suddenly felt flushed, warm, a little dizzy. A huge smile broke over her face and she began to laugh with the relief of these feelings suddenly being out in the open-no longer tormenting her, no longer such a source of confusion.

"Mulder, I..." he cut her off by leaning down to kiss her. The kiss sent tingles through her entire self and set her heart to racing. His mouth was soft and warm, she felt like she was melting into him, despite the wet clothing between them and the thick air around them.

"I love you." Once the words were out she feared she had pushed things too far. A cold spike of panic raced through her and she avoided his gaze for a moment. But then she felt his hand under her chin, lifting up her face to look right at him.

"I love you too." he said, a sweet smile spreading over his face and his eyes sparkling warmly.

Back in the hotel room, they dried off and snuggled into bed together. With a slight smile at the remembrance of the awkward night before, they suddenly both began to laugh and fell into the center of the bed together, arms around each other. She snuggled right up next to him, placing her head in the hollow of his shoulder and feeling the warm length of his body up against hers. She felt warm and safe and cherished.

"Good night Mulder." she murmured, already drifting off to sleep.

"Good night Scully." he replied, gently brushing her hair behind her ear, and placing a kiss on top of her head.

The End


End file.
